


Some Lovers Speak

by eurydicule



Category: Snowboarding RPF
Genre: M/M, bad things, post-season cavity-inducing fluff fest because they're worth it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydicule/pseuds/eurydicule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iouri just <i>knows</i> that it's love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Lovers Speak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nychthemera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nychthemera/gifts).



> 1\. I'm not saying this was inspired by Philip Sidney's Sonnet 6 from _Astrophil and Stella_ because that'd be a) pretentious and b) possibly a sacrilege, but as I stole the title from that poem's opening line, as a good undergrad student with an awareness of scientific ethics I feel it is my duty to at least cite it as reference in some form. 
> 
> 2\. While I'm nowhere near as good at meticulous timelines drawing on real-life events as nychthemera is (I bow down to you, always!), I used a certain instagram picture Iouri posted ages ago of a women's torso covered in paint and his stay in hospital after that nasty half pipe fall earlier this winter (which also is the subject of a ridiculously good, artsy short movie) as points of reference for this story. Also, to a lesser extent and at a latter point, the infamous mad driving skillz of one particular Bad Things member. 
> 
> 3\. Lastly, this is for nychthemera, happy belated tiny-fandom anniversary! I wouldn't have wanted to do this with anyone else in the world.

**Some Lovers Speak**

 

"Hey, remember that thing you said last time you shot me? When we were in the woods and you got the phone call you couldn't miss?"

Iouri squints through the camera lense and shakes his head, a clear indication that he does not want to be disturbed right now and a just polite enough request for Janine to be quiet. He is a talkative guy, but not when he is working, not even when he is working with friends. Janine knows this, that is why she complies, at least for the seconds it takes for Iouri to get the angle just right and snap the picture.

"You said you're in love-"

"Janine. Please. No talking. ... We're almost done."

The physical effort of keeping her mouth closed looks comically childish, even on a woman like Janine, so much in fact that Iouri briefly considers capturing it with his camera as well. Then again, he has not set up the light for that kind of close-up, so it probably would not even work out the way he would want it to. It turns out to be too short-lived to be captured on film, anyway, because when she hears the flash click, Janine actually bounces on the back of her bare heels.

"You sounded so certain! And I know you, Podladtchikov, don't tell me it was just a joke because I know it wasn't. I'm not even asking because I want to know who it is, I probably don't even know her, I just..."

"Just one more, I promise. Please."

Janine makes an exasperated sound, her arms trembling from the effort of not crossing in front of her, but this time she remains silent until Iouri takes one last picture of her before putting the camera down.

"And done. ... Brilliant. You're amazing."

She brushes the compliment off just like that, impatient.

"So tell me, how do you know?"

Janine looks at him impatiently and Iouri marvels at her grace. Half-naked and smeared in paint, she still manages to look nothing but regal. He carefully places the camera back into its protective case, before reaching out to hand her a towel. She looks earnest, like she honestly spent time thinking about this and it makes Iouri wary.

"You can't really _know_ , can you? Isn't that the point?"

Janine wrinkles her nose, as if finding Iouri's thinly-veiled evasion distateful in an almost olfactory way. Her movements as she uses the towel to soak up the sweat on her brow make Iouri regret having put away the camera too early.

"Is that you or the meds talking?"

"You know which one it is, Janine."

"Oh, but you can never really _know_ , can you?"

Iouri snickers, which Janine registers with an exasperated eyeroll, and pointedly turns his back on her.

"Hurry up, take a shower and get dressed. My lease is officially running out in ... well, 15 minutes ago. Technically they're allowed to kick us out of the studio any minute now. And while I'm fairly certain that some guys would enjoy it if I took you out just like this..."

He does not even need to finish the sentence. Janine has already disappeared in the direction of the designated changing room.

#

Later that night, or fairly early the next morning as people other than Iouri might call it, Iouri finds himself wondering, but only for a moment. Because he really just knows it is love.

 

He knows that it is love because Shaun does not crane his neck to look at the camera screen when Iouri snaps a photo of him in his house.

He is lazily sprawling on the sofa facing the bay windows, leafing through a magazine, Steve curled up on his left side and a cup of coffee dangerously perching on the arm rest to his right. Iouri is past a three-minute inward discussion with himself now of how he should go on about this, if he should just take a picture or if he should ask Shaun whether that is okay first, but Iouri knows him. He knows if he says something now, something will undoubtedly creep into Shaun's posture, he will put the magazine away or he will change the way he is sitting, Steve will get up from the couch or something else will happen and then the picture will not be to Iouri's taste anymore. He knows that Shaun hates having his picture taken, but there is something about the Californian sun filtering in through the bay windows just now that brings out that _tone_ in his hair.

In the end, Iouri just goes with it, telling himself that he can always delete the picture if Shaun is not okay with this. The old-fashioned sound of a flash ripples through the air and just as Iouri predicted, Steve snaps awake and raises his head lazily, before pointedly making his way over to where Iouri is standing first and then, hopes let down, waddles away in the general direction of his food bowl. Shaun turns his head into Iouri's direction.

"Did you just take a picture of me?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. I thought I'd heard something."

He does not shake his head in disapproval, does not ask him to delete the picture immediately after it has been taken. Shaun stays seated just like he did before, keeps on flicking through the magazine, as if nothing had happened.

That is how Iouri knows that this is love.

 

He knows that it is love because when Iouri picks him up at the airport with a grin, pronouncing that - as there is a deadline approaching and he does not expect to work much as long as Shaun is staying with him - he would like to make use of the opportunity to get some of his coursework for his classes at university done, Shaun gets in the car without complaining.

He looks a little knackered from the flight, but simultaneously also oozes an air of getting better at these short-notice cross-Atlantic stints.

In the museum, Shaun takes off his sunglasses before Iouri can ask him to do so. He trails along for the first couple of exhibition halls, keeping a careful distance to Iouri and at the same time gravitating close enough around him so that Iouri notices he is there. Shaun does not pick up one of the free leaflets at the entrance, pretending to be interested, but once or twice he steps closer to one painting or the other, lingers in front of one that has escaped Iouri's interest, and reads the little text box beside it. Iouri catches him looking intently at him, not at the paintings, more than once. Shaun does not even pretend to be apologetic about it.

He is keeping himself very still and his phone in his pocket untouched, but after half an hour of Iouri scribbling away into his notebook, he feels Shaun touching his elbow lightly.

"Would you mind giving me your car keys? I could catch up on some sleep while you're at it."

Iouri flicks the notebook shut with a thud that is audible only because it is early in the morning and the steady stream of tourists roaming the museum resembles a trickle still.

"We can head home if you want to-..."

"No. Finish your stuff. Really. ... Just give me your car keys and take your time. I can wait," Shaun smiles at him reassuringly.

That is how Iouri knows that this is love.

 

He knows that it is love because it is less than two days after the operation, Iouri is still in shock or perhaps already in denial, his leg hurts, his head swims and he looks positively roughed up, and then there is a knock on the door and Shaun enters with his back to him, talking to one of the nurses in a hushed voice with melodious undertones until she throws a look above his shoulder and leaves them to it.

Shaun closes the door behind her carefully before turning around.

"Hey."

"You really shouldn't have come."

"Wow ... that's," Shaun walks over to the windows first, as Iouri thought he would, marvelling at the view just like everybody else does when they visit him for the first time,"that's actually exactly what I thought you'd say."

"This isn't funny, I mean it. There's tons of stuff ...," Iouri swallows against the swimming in his head, mentally clawing into the thought before it can drift away from him lazily, unhurriedly, "I know you're swamped because you spent all of last week complaining about that to me. There's absolutely no way this is fitting into your schedule."

"You're hardly an appointment, Iouri."

"Just go."

Shaun, standing next to the bed by now, starts to fumble for something in the pockets of his black jeans.

"Nuh uh. Not going to happen. ... Tell you what, I'll go downstairs for a cup of potentially dreadful coffee and then I'll come back and if you still want me to leave then, I'll leave. Okay?"

"I must be on meds, or did you just really say _dreadful_?"

Shaun rolls his eyes in a dramatic way and then, less dramatically so, lets his knuckles run down the side of Iouri's face, barely touching him but tenderly so when he does.

"See you in a bit, yeah?"

Iouri honestly thinks of hopping out of bed as soon as the door has fallen shut behind Shaun, to have a quick shower, possibly a shave, and do anything else it will take to make him look at least presentable again, but even the mere thought is exhausting and so he does not move at all. When Shaun comes back about twenty minutes later with a cup of coffee in hand ("Surprisingly good! The perks of staying in private hospitals, huh?"), Iouri asks him to stay.

"You sure? I mean, I will. You just sounded pretty sure before?"

Iouri reaches out for the cup of coffee and nods when Shaun motions towards the bed in a questioning gesture, sitting down carefully as if trying to avoid sitting down straight on any of Iouri's broken body parts. Probably that is what he is doing.

"Meds talking. Don't mind me."

Shaun leans forward then, smelling like air-condition and the cafeteria downstairs, but Iouri ceases to mind when he feels Shaun's lips trailing down the same spots his knuckles have traced earlier.

"In case you haven't noticed: I always do."

That is how Iouri knows that this is love.

 

Pouring himself a glass of wine, Iouri clicks on the Skype symbol on his phone, then on Shaun's name. It takes Shaun half a minute to pick up, and when he does the picture is pixelated and there is lots of background noise.

"Hi. Is this a bad time?"

"No no, it's fine, really. How are you? Everything alright?"

There is an audible thumping and then the sound of people ironically cheering in the background and Shaun's face blurrs even more for a moment. Iouri can hear voices yelling close to where Shaun has to be, "Jesus, Lena! ... What was that?"

"Shhh, Shaun is trying to maintain friendships with other people! Hi, Russian snowboard guy whose name I always get wrong but who takes rad pictures when you're not looking!"

"His name is Podladtchikov, Lena, and he's Swiss-Russian. That's different. Keep your eyes on the road!" someone else pipes up before Iouri has to.

Iouri smiles at the camera, even though he cannot see any of them and guesses that no one but Shaun can see him either.

"Hi. ... Where are you all?"

Shaun's face comes into focus again.

"In a car, somewhere. Don't ask. We were supposed to be heading out for a gig, but with Lena behind the wheel, I think we're slowly losing faith of ever... what, like it's not true!"

"Should have done that unpaid promo-photoshoot when you had the chance, dude," someone else interjects again and Iouri finally recognizes the voice. That would be Jared. "Who knows if we'll make it out of here al-iiiive, LENA!"

There is more thumping and swearing but in a good-natured way, so Iouri is not all too worried.

"Listen, maybe it's not the perfect time after all. Google maps says we're to arrive in about thirty minutes, are you still up by then? Can I call you back?"

Shaun sounds apologetic but Iouri tells him not to worry about it.

"Talk to you in a bit. .. Safe journeys, guys. And good luck, Lena!"

"Really, Pot-lad-chick-of? Not you too!"

Iouri ends the connection before he can get himself an earful of swearing.

 

By the time Shaun skypes him back, only a little more than half an hour later, Iouri has polished off the glass of wine and retreated to his room already. He is feeling warm and a little drowsy in a good way, even more so when this time, the connection seems to be good and stable and Shaun's face on the screen comes into view crystal clear. There are also no other noises disturbing this time.

"Hi again."

"Hi. Sorry about that."

"It's all good. ... How are you? Arrived at your gig safe and sound?"

"Yeah, pretty much. You needn't worry, you know? Lena's not that bad a driver, we just like to wind her up a little bit. Davis swears her drumming gets even better when she's annoyed with us..."

Iouri chuckles and lets his head reast on the pillow, causing Shaun to frown.

"Sorry, I'm ... what time is it over at yours? I really didn't mean to keep you up-"

"You didn't. I wanted to. ... Anyway, I just. I don't want to keep you from the others for long. I guess I just wanted to say ... I love you, okay?"

Shaun looks at him quizzically for a moment, but he catches himself rather fast.

"... Okay. ... Listen, are you sure you're alright? ... And I don't mean this in a douchebag way, it's just ... I don't think ... well. You never _said_   that before."

"But you know, don't you?"

Shaun smiles at that.

"Yeah. ... Yeah, I do."

That is how Iouri knows.


End file.
